I'm a Doctor, not a Detective
by Amy.G.Pond
Summary: The Doctor regenerates from the twelfth into the thirteenth, and looks just like Sherlock Holmes, who is missing, along with fourteen others. The Doctor and Sherlock are confused for each other, but The British Government soon finds out that The Doctor is in fact "the code 9," but Sherlock is still captive as The Doctor. Will The Doctor, UNIT, and Scotland Yard find him in time?
1. Prolog

It was a dark room with the only light being two dim, blue, lights and one orange light in between them, all of them nearly two meters in the air facing each other in a semi-circle.

"THIS IS THE LAST KNOWN VISUAL OF THE DOCTOR," informed the orange light as two new white lights to its upper right and left flashed to each syllable.

The room suddenly filled with the light of a transparent screen, revealing the figures belonging to the lights. They were all roughly two meters tall and the same general shape: a twelve sided prism base with four half sphere bumps stacked on top of each other for each side, a cylindrical center with a toilet plunger shaped robotic arm and a weapon sticking out, and a dome-like head with two light bulbs jetting out from a forty-five degree angle and a wire with several small white disks close to the end and a camera lens at the tip. The center one had the base color of white and was distinctively fatter than the others who had the base color of bronze. On the screen there was a face of a young man. He had a long pail face, a long thin rounded nose, small flat lips, a large rounded jaw, sharp cheekbones, sea-green eyes, and curly red hair.

"I know that face," A smooth, young Irish voice spoke softly from the shadows.


	2. Chapter One

Hello, readers! Sorry for the wait, and I probably should warn you: most of the chapters will be spread apart; it's kind of hard to balence this on top of homework. If you notice a star over a word or phrase, that's because it's a reference to an episode that might not be known to you, so I named it at the bottem of the chapter; I will continue to do this. Obviously I don't own the shows, that's why I'm writing this, not a script. Anyway, hope you like it, and please feel free to comment. Thanks!

* * *

Fire. The room was eaten away in a flame that shot out from its source: a dying man. His limbs were spread wide and his head was tilted back as that deathly flame erupted from his arms and head. The man was screaming in agony; his blue owl-like eyes wide in fear and pain, and glazed over in death. The flame disappeared and the corps was brought back to life, but with a new face. This face had the façade of youth. In fact, it was the same face that showed on the Dalek's screen.

The man stopped screaming and collapsed to the floor, curling in upon himself, clutching his flaming hair. The center console shot our sparks, and flames roared all around him. The TARDIS was in ruin all around The Doctor.  
He picked himself off of the floor and spun around in dazed confusion. Noticing his new body, he cried, "Blimey, these feet are smaller than the last ones! How am I ever going to run with rubbish like this?" He looked up and realized the console room was in flames. "Are we crashing?"  
Scurrying off to console, he studied the controls, not remembering how to fly her. "Oh, come on! Sorry old girl; I can't help you this time," and he was thrown to the wall. He gripped onto the groves that "the round things" provided as the TARDIS tumbled through the air, streaming towards the planet's surface, whatever planet it was. _Good thing I put these back in here last time I changed the desktop..._ he thought. The fire spread and caught on his clothes, but he couldn't risk freeing a hand to put it out. He could feel the flame slowly eating away at his flesh, but he continued to ignore it. The pain was just becoming unbearable when the TARDIS jolted violently and came to rest, thankfully right-side-up. The Doctor immediately released his grip from the wall and patted out the fire.  
Coughing on smoke, he sputtered, "Need some time alone to repair yourself?" She replied with a pained moan in agreement, and he scrambled out the doors into the streets of London.  
"Well, of course I crashed here!"  
The TARDIS had landed in a vacant back alley amongst blue garbage bins. On the right hand side, the there was a seven story building made of old brick, the lower windows were barred, and there was black piping on the outside. On the left, there was a two story concrete building with white gridded windows. Looking down the building towards the main road he could see a sign for the London Underground. He began walking towards it when he distracted by a distant and muffled noise to his left.  
Clang, clang.  
He stopped.  
Clang, clang.  
He looked left.  
Clang, clang.  
He found the source.  
Clang, clang.  
It was a manhole.  
Clang, clang.  
He scanned it with his sonic screwdriver and read the readings. "Now, that's not the underground," he said in a slightly scared voice and added silently, _nor maintenance workers._ He opened the door and descended down the plywood staircase into the darkness.  
Reaching the bottom, he leaped down the last few steps into a puddle of icy water on the smooth concrete surface of what was a small, square, maintenance tunnel. The water felt blissful on his singed shins. He took a moment to take in his surroundings. The tunnel extended for about a mile both left and right, dimly lit with sickly yellow fluorescents cased in yellow plastic half-cubes with dead insects trapped in them and dangling off them, and the floor was littered with puddles everywhere. Not knowing where to go, he twirled around and clomped to the left.  
His footsteps ricochet off the tunnel walls, and his boots splashing in the puddles made the thrilling tune of danger. His head tingling with adrenalin, he broke into a silent sprint down the chamber; there was something wrong here; he could feel it like a migraine.  
The strange clanging lead him to an archway branching off shortly in front, the first escape of this tubed prison. Dodging through the doorway, he braced his hands in front of him to cushion his impact on a slick, wet, icy, stone wall of a small cell. The cell was empty.  
The metallic beating pulsated like the King Vampier's heart*, pounding painfully against The Doctor's eardrums, but he did not cover his ears. Slipping out his sonic screwdriver, he scanned the perimeter, and was surprised to find a small square of the wall in the back left corner of the room that apparently didn't exist. Naturally he was curious, and suspicious. Hesitating for half a second, he slammed his palm against it, and he was blinded with a brilliant, electrifying light. And then, there was nothing.

* * *

Black smoke swirled in his mind, clouding out the metal heartbeat. But the plumes cleared, and it stabbed its cold blade rhythmically at his ears once more. Slowly, and with a lot of effort, he forced his eyes open, finding himself looking down a dark, square corridor. _That's not right_, he thought, _the tunnel I was in was arched._ He propped himself up and gasped in pain. His entire body was burning. _As though I haven't had enough of that today already._ Standing up, he scanned his surroundings. He was in exactly the same spot as where he blacked out, but the wall opposite of the doorway was no longer.

"Interesting; a hidden door to a secret passageway. The question is, where does it lead to? Danger? Probably," he spoke softly to himself. Letting his curiosity get the best of him, he cautiously frolicked down the new corridor before settling into a discreet stride.  
In contrast to the previous tunnel, the walls were fresh, polished stone, and it was clear that they were not going to fall down anytime soon. The floor was still slick, but not with water; it was also polished to perfection. There was no lighting other than the fluorescents behind him, but those were soon blotted out; for the wall rematerialized, closing off any means of escape. Dread spouted inside of him, and so he gulped and pulled out a torch from his breast pocket. The snap of the switch rebounded off the walls, whispering, "_Danger, danger, danger_," and the narrow abbess ahead flooded with focused, white light. He stepped forward, following the border of light and dark.  
As he descended through the darkness, he soon discovered that it was not an endless straight stretch, but a network of hallways. Upon hearing the source of the said noise from down a hallway to his right, he deterred from his previous path, continuing his journey. He wound through the hallways, and was led to a spacious, central room.  
The room was cylindrical in shape, its walls a duel grey metal, with another door directly across the other. Stretching up and across, a bronze arch stood, now murdering The Doctor's ears. The right side struck him with **clang**, and **clang** the left struck as well. For a moment, he relished the silence, only to take the blow of **clang**, and **clang**; he was losing control of his composure. His hands drew up his sides on their own accord, and **clang**, they clasped to his ears. **Clang**, his weight fell on his knees. His body curled in upon itself, shielding him from the continuing blows. And yet, he was refusing all help from instinct, and picked himself up in agony.  
Looking up, he studied the said arch to see what it was all for. He noted the way it curved into the arch: it wasn't a rounded top, but rather went straight up and across, a box, much like the fresh hallways he came through. _Perhaps it's a generator, or a weapon, he_ thought, preferring the former. _I wonder who put it here?_  
Raising his voice above the assault, he called: "Anyone about?" No answer. He strode across the room and called again: "Anyone about?" Still no answer. He was about to venture further in when a young woman appeared through the other doorway, followed by an elderly man.  
"Why, hello there! I'm The Doctor. And who might you be?"  
They tilted their heads in unison, and a cracking noise could be heard. Eyestalks sprouted out of each of their foreheads. They raised their right hands, and energy weapons sprung from their palms. More like them pored out of the door.  
"THE DOCTOR HAS ESCAPED. EXTERMINATE! EXTERMINATE!"  
The Doctor turned and ran, just barely dodging an energy beam that collided with the wall now behind him.

* * *

Catching his breath, The Doctor stood in an elevator of the closest police station: the New Scotland Yard. Getting out of the compound was easy enough, all he did to get through the materialization door was look for a square of space that his screwdriver deemed nonexistent, and being that he really didn't want to be nocked out again, he found his bag of jelly babies in his pocket and threw it at it. Lightening struck it, and it burned away, but the door dematerialized. When. He reached the TARDIS at the surface, she wouldn't let him in; she was still healing. The Doctor apologized for have to leave her so close to danger, and at her mental nudge, he ran through the street, finding himself here.

The elevator bells softly numbered off the floors he passed as he contemplated on what he had just witnessed.  
Ding:  
_What was that huge arch?_  
Ding:  
_Why were the Daleks underground?_  
Ding:  
_They have better security than that. Why was it so easy to get in?_  
Ding:  
_I just saw eight Dalek puppets. How many more have become there victims?_  
_Beep__. _The car came to a halt, and the doors parted open. He straightened his singed grey blazer with a brief tug, and confidently strode forward, heading towards the Detective Inspector's office. Something caught his eye; he stopped and peered through a glass window to an office. There was a board on the wall with pictures with many of the faces he had just seen underground. Standing in front of the board was a young woman in business suit. She had frizzy black hair, semi-dark skin, a lavender dress shirt on, a blue blazer, and deep purple pants and flats.

Wanting to ask her about the pictures (he was here to find out about recent disappearances, and possible use their telephone to contact UNIT), he stepped through the open door.  
"Curious, isn't it?" he pipped up.  
She immediately spun around, wearing a face of complete shock and disbelief. "Freak?"  
"What?"

* * *

*State of Decay


End file.
